“Coonhounds and Foxhounds Are Only Good for One Thing… HUNTING!” ​

NOT!The Secret’s Out: They Make Great Pets!

There’s a myth still circulating about coonhounds and foxhounds: They are only good for one thing — hunting. But anyone who’s ever shared home and hearth with one quickly learns that they make great pets too.​

Austin in his t-shirt wagging his tail. His tail never stopped.

Black and Tan, Bluetick, English, Plott, Redbone, or Treeing Walker coonhounds, and all foxhounds, are pretty darn resilient, and incredibly forgiving toward humans. No other breed that I know of would tolerate the cramped quarters of a dog “box” in the back of a pickup truck, cooking in the heat during a Texas summer or freezing in the cold during a Minnesota winter, moving along at highway speeds, without emerging with some physical or psychological damage. The big hounds usually come through that perfectly happy, which I attribute to their inherently benevolent temperaments.

Bred to work as full partners, out of sight of their human hunting buddies, they are also about the most loyal, affectionate dogs around, closely attuned to the wishes of their handlers and eager to please.

I’ve been rescuing hounds, mostly Treeing Walkers, for over 30 years. Almost all of mine have been exceptional companions. Not only are they affectionate by nature, they are rarely quarrelsome with other dogs. Coonhounds are bred to team up, hunting with dogs they’ve never met before, so they’re good at making friends with strangers.

Foxhounds resting together after a hunt.

They’re generally pretty easy to house train, too, even if some rescue hounds need to be taught all sorts of indoor manners before they are adopted out because they haven’t shared quarters with humans before.

Coonhounds and foxhounds are really beautiful dogs, too. They come in a wide variety of rich coat colors and patterns -- red, “blue” (mottled black and white), black, brindled (striped), tri-colored like a beagle -- with such endearing features as tan “almonds” over the eyes, black “pencil lines” on the toes, and perfect spots for kissing on the top of the head, to say nothing of those long silky ears. Hounds have a short, dense coat which is easy to keep clean. Ninety-eight percent of the Walkers I’ve rescued over the years lived long, healthy lives, with none of the health issues (hip dysplasia,degenerative myelopathy, hypothyroidism, cancer, etc.) that seem to plague so many of the more popular breeds.

One of our Walkers, a male named “T.J.,” lived to the ripe old age of 17, with clear eyes, no skin or ear problems, and cancer-free. Without a doubt, he was the finest example of a well-bred coonhound I’ve ever known. Breed longevity is a bonus for any dog lover, but longevity and good health is the ultimate “package” deal. Of course, T.J. was exceptionally long-lived, but 12-14 years is not unusual for a coonhound or foxhound that hasn’t met an unnatural death in a “shelter” or crossing a road, intent after game.

T.J.

And there’s a new concern added to the burdens that coonhounds in shelters have faced. Over the last few years, the American Kennel Club, the largest registry of purebred dogs in this country, has begun to recognize most of the coonhound breeds. (They’ve recognized two breeds of foxhounds and American Black and Tan Coonhounds for much longer.) That may well increase the price breeders, both good and bad, will charge for purebred puppies. In the past, only the United Kennel Club, the National Coon Hound Association, and the Continental Kennel Club, much smaller registries, recognized these coonhound breeds, and these are largely hunting registries. Puppies weren’t worth much until they were trained to hunt and proved their skills. AKC registration may give breeders an incentive to produce pups without regard for the working characteristics that have kept coonhounds and foxhounds so robust until now. I hope that AKC recognition for conformation doesn’t prove disastrous for these hounds, as it was for German Shepherd Dogs and a host of other breeds which became popular after gaining recognition from the most recognized registry in the world.

So the next time you visit a shelter, rescue, or animal control facility and see one of those “only good for one thing” hounds, please consider adopting it and giving it a chance to be your beloved pet. Chances are it will be a great companion. Perhaps some hunter had too many dogs to feed, the hound is gun-shy, or your candidate came into the shelter as a stray after it went too far afield, lost its tracking collar, and couldn’t find its way home. Kill shelters in almost every southern state are brimming with unwanted coonhounds and foxhounds, which are usually near the top of the euthanasia list at public shelters, outranked only by pit bulls and owner surrenders. The myth about coonhounds and foxhounds is so widespread that I believe that only one in five shelters in the South even attempts to find rescue for them. When shelters do reach out, the few rescues willing to take hounds are often full to capacity. I know. I’ve turned down too many needy hounds myself, although I always try to help if I possibly can.​​Bonney WilliamsDirector, Etosha Rescue and Adoption Center

The opinions expressed in this guest blog are those of the author and are not necessarily endorsed by Coonhound and Foxhound Companions.

There she was, excitedly leaning against the door of her cage at the animal shelter. With trusting brown eyes, a white-tipped tail, and those floppy, spotted ears, she was the most adorable puppy I had ever seen. I had seen her for the first time a few nights prior in the hallway of the police station, on an early morning after my shift. I had not been able to forget about the 8-week-old abuse victim ever since. The officers who witnessed the incident had apparently seized the pit bull/beagle mix from her owner, and the puppy was going to be kept at the shelter until the court hearing. I didn’t know yet if she would be put up for adoption or returned to her owner, but I knew how much I wanted to keep her. My husband Alex and I both love dogs, but we live in a small townhome without an accessible backyard. We had previously agreed that we wanted at least one dog but had decided to wait until we moved into a larger home. Now, a sweet little face and wagging tail were quickly convincing me to reconsider. Over the next month, I visited the puppy almost every day. I brought her treats and toys, clipped her nails, and took her for walks. Her name at the time was “Princess,” but she had not been treated as one. I decided that I wanted to name her Seven of Nine after a character from Star Trek: Voyager (the character on the show was also “rescued!”)

Animals are a special kind of victim—they can’t tell anyone that they are hurting, or seek help for themselves. It was a stressful month knowing that Seven might eventually have to go back to her owner. She would not likely get another chance to be saved. When the court hearing came around, I was relieved to find out that the owner had decided to sign the puppy over to the county. I went to the shelter and filled out the adoption paperwork that same day. Seven was finally ours, and would have a loving home for the rest of her life.

Having had zero experience at raising puppies, I relied heavily on advice from friends and Internet research. One thing I never expected was the constant biting during the teething process. I came to realize that a dog’s natural reaction to touch is defensive, and they need to be taught to view humans as non-threatening. This must have been especially difficult for a pup already injured by a human at such a young age. Seven used to latch onto hands, arms, shoelaces, pants legs—pretty much anything that she could sink her razor sharp puppy teeth into. With a lot of time, patience, and the occasional band-aid, we slowly taught Seven bite inhibition. Ignoring bad behavior and praising good behavior goes a long way when training a pup. I would yelp like a puppy and let my arm go limp if she bit me, and turn my head away and ignore her if she was pulling at my pant leg or shoelace. We gave her chew toys, Nylabones, a Kong ball (I like to freeze it with peanut butter inside), and even pieces of ice. I used to pet her while feeding her treats so that she was too distracted to start chewing on my hands. It took time, but this type of training proved to be extremely effective and resulted in a much gentler puppy!

House training is another challenge, even more so when it is raining outside. Seven hates the rain so much that we got her a tiny raincoat for when she needs to go out during inclement weather. I took her for a walk one day to allow her to do her business, when she suddenly decided she did not want to walk home. I found myself walking down the side of the road holding a puppy in a raincoat, and an umbrella over both of us. I could not imagine what passersby must have been thinking!

Anyone who has ever trained a hound knows how willful they can be. Training is a challenge, but it can be very rewarding if done properly. Hound breeds are extremely intelligent and can learn new things very quickly. At five months, Seven already had a decent repertoire of tricks memorized. She learned how to sit, shake hands, high five, and low crawl. If I told her to “twist” she would spin around in a circle. Our latest trick is my favorite—I point my finger at her and say “bang bang!” and she rolls onto her back with her paws in the air.

At six months old, Seven has started baying and chasing squirrels. Her beagle side is definitely asserting itself. Our walks require a bit of patience since she wants to investigate everything along the way. She seems to enjoy tracking and sniffs the ground with her nose down, tail up. She began doing this while she was still at the shelter, but her senses seem to have developed more now. She is a hunting dog at heart, but such a loyal and wonderful companion.

Seven has a ton of energy and we make sure she gets plenty of exercise to match it. She runs with larger dogs at the park and gets several walks a day. She seems to operate in short bursts—she will run and play for an hour, but then nap for the rest of the afternoon. We play fetch games with her squeaky ball and Alex throws Frisbees with her at the dog park. Once she has had her exercise, Seven loves to be held and prefers to use any nearby human as a pillow. She even sleeps in our bed at night.

For all the challenges of owning a puppy, the rewards are tenfold. We look forward to a lifetime of adventures with our sweet Seven of Nine!

Editor's Note: Beagles are "cousins" to coonhounds and foxhounds and we thought our readers would enjoy reading this engaging first-person account and excellent photographs! Our organization does encourage adoption of hound mixes.

by Gates MurchieThis past October, we visited our son, Colin, and his family (Molly and Miles) in the Washington, D.C. area. Our grandson’s first birthday provided the opportunity, and off we went. Though we usually impose on them in their house, this trip was different. Molly’s parents drove up from Texas for the party and had dibs on the spare bedroom. Up until now, our Black and Tan, Easy, stayed with friends when we traveled. This time, we grabbed the chance to expand Easy’s horizons to include hotel life in the “big city.”

Front to back: Miles, Candy, Franki, Easy

Step 1: find a “pet-friendly” hotel. Google provided a list of options and I began the search. As it turns out, it isn’t as easy as I thought. Although a number of hotel chains say they are “pet friendly”, it doesn’t necessarily mean “pet welcoming.” Many limit the pet size to 50 pounds or less (that would not be Easy!). Others impose significant fees for bringing your loved one on a per-stay or per day basis. It seemed we were destined to be 20+ miles away from the family and residing in a “third tier” establishment at “first tier” rates. That is until my son mentioned the Kimpton Hotels.

I looked and we were in the 3-4 star hotel category. Gloom filled the air. Then I found the Kimpton Helix hotel. A few short blocks from Dupont Circle (pix can be downloaded here) and 200 yards from Logan Circle, the 3-star hotel was in the middle of shops, attractions and dining and a mere 5 miles from my son’s house. The gloom thickened as I imagined the cost. I called anyway and the cheerful reservation person quickly ascertained my eligibility for discounts, offering a rate competitive with the pet-loaded rates at the other hotels. OK, now what can go wrong? Oh, yeah, the dog. I asked about bringing Easy. She said, “How big is he?” Expecting a fee adder, I sighed and said, “About 75-80 pounds.” Her response, “Oh, he’ll need a big bed. Does he want his own bowls?” What? He’s welcome! You’ll provide a bed and bowls? What’s his favorite treat? You’ve never taken reservations for a coonhound before and you’re excited! Free wine every evening? Okay, we’ll be there.

So now, the trip begins in earnest. Easy is in the back of the Subaroooooo and we are off. Only, he thinks we are going to nearby Otsiningo Park to tree squirrels and begins baying as we leave the driveway. Thirty miles later, he realizes his error and we now know why they have hound boxes in THE BACK of pickup trucks. The next 3 hours go by uneventfully and we pause at a Pennsylvania rest stop for a picnic lunch. Not just A rest stop, but THE BEST rest stop EVER. Why, you ask? Because the rest stop attendants have been feeding the squirrels around the trees in the dog walking area!!!! Hooray!!!!! Anyway, this recreational interlude gets even better when a second hound shows up to join the chorus. Back in the car and time for a nap.

Arrival - and Easy meets with his old friend, Frankie the dog

Frankie and Easy

Frankie is my son’s rescue dog and he is a North American LBD (Little Brown Dog). They proceed to light up the neighborhood with barking and bawling as they chase squirrels in the yard and on a walk. City squirrels are a little too sassy for Easy and he quickly teaches them that running 3 feet up a tree is not far enough to avoid a near-death experience at the mouth of a coonhound. This lesson would be repeated numerous times during our visit, in the yards parks, streets, and outdoor cafes of the D.C. area.

Now, it is late and time for the hotel…we arrive, 15 hours into our day and looking a bit bedraggled. We are met with an on-going full-blown party and a moment of wondering, “What happens next?” A hearty greeting and a pat for Easy and now, we face navigating the crowd and ….. an elevator. Luckily, for the uninitiated, a B&T coonhound looks enough like a Rottweiler that navigating the crowd quickly resolves itself. This would also prove true when walking the city streets. People respect your personal space when part of it is occupied by a serious dog. Back to the elevator.

Easy does not like new surfaces or wiggly floors. The vet’s moving table and scale are not popular places. Anyway, the elevator opens and two people get in, not realizing we are getting on, too. They look nervous and Easy freezes. Undeterred, I tug and Candy scoops and he is in. This was his one and only problem with the elevator. All further trips went without a hitch, although I can only imagine what went through his mind. “OK. There was this party and these people and we got into the little room and then the door closed and then it opened and they were gone and then we went to bed and got into the little room and the door closed and it opened and different people were there.” (I imagine Easy thinks in run-on sentences.)

A quick call and Easy’s very comfy bed and bowls show up at the (very nice) room and our first night begins. No issues except that he stares at the dog in the floor to ceiling mirrors and tries to look behind them.

The next morning at 7, it is time for the a.m. walk. We travel up to Logan Circle and quickly accomplish the mission… and discover that the circle and its trees are loaded with squirrels in desperate need of a fitness program. The new regime is announced with great gusto and much fanfare. Unfortunately, the ceremonies serve to wake those unfortunates who spend the night sleeping at the circle. There is much grumbling and rustling of plastic. I feel bad about this and resolve to avoid repeating it the next day, if possible. Their lives are difficult enough (pic can be downloaded here).

Breakfast outdoors at Caribou Coffee is another new experience for Mr. E. Coonhound. Still exhibiting exemplary behavior, he sits under the table and examines the passing parade with great interest. Different smells from different cultures, different vehicles and different foods all provide the same amusement as a morning paper … Until he discovers pigeons. They act like squirrels, make squirrel noises, flutter about and are annoying. A surprise bawl sets things aright and gives the other patrons something to remember.

Easy holding still for his close-up

The rest of the visit is equally wonderful, the birthday party a great success and the return trip satisfying. Easy took many more elevator rides, met many more people and showed us that he is a traveler of great sophistication. And that you can’t take the country out of the dog.

"Easy's dreams after his visit to the nation's capital swells his head."

Just in time for Christmas…A new picture book about a hound (for children), We Love Leeby Anne Wills

Dogs Finding Dogs (DFD), a nonprofit organization that uses search dogs to find lost pets, has just published a new picture book for young children, We Love Lee, by Chrissy Hoffmaster. It is also charmingly illustrated by Mary Booth. The book is about a Treeing Walker Coonhound finding his vocation as a search dog for lost pets. It is based on the (mostly) true story of DFD’s search dog Lee, handled by me, Anna. Proceeds from book sales will go to Dogs Finding Dogs’ “Walker Fund,“ which offsets costs of searches for lost pets for families that can’t afford a donation to DFD. Dogs Finding Dogs is purely donation financed. We request that pet owners send us a donation for our services, but we will not turn down any plea for help because a family cannot afford to. While some of the details of We Love Lee are a little dressed up for fun, much of it is based on reality. Lee joined our team after he ran away from his foster home in Maryland and camped out in a patch of bamboo behind my local supermarket. I got the call from the rescue about him being missing two years ago on Easter Monday. My veteran search dog Heidi and I found Lee immediately, but he was very scared. We took our time coaxing him out. For two weeks, we did nothing but visit him with chicken, toys, and blankets. We set out a live trap for him with the blankets and treats inside. Every time we went back to check it, Lee had pulled everything out and made a nest in the bamboo with them. Once, I put a leash on top of the trap while I was putting new bait in it, and left it there while I went back to the car for something else. When I got back--no more than three minutes later--Lee had snitched the leash as well!

Heidi is a German Shepherd Dog. Lee would come out to play with Heidi when we visited. I would watch him trace her every footstep, nose to the ground. It was marvelous to see. That made me decide to ask to keep him for Dogs Finding Dogs after we caught him. And that is exactly what happened. After six months of training and living with Heidi and me, he was transformed into “Super Hound Dog to the Rescue”! It wasn’t easy, that’s for sure. Lee is a big funny hound, always wanting to run, leap, and spin in the air. He loves to have fun! That is mirrored in the book, which, featuring Lee, is fun and a little silly too, although educational as well. While the international travel is fictional, Lee really did have a case finding lost ferrets, as in the book. In the real case, though, there were seven ferrets lost from one house, not just three. He found all seven safe and sound. Lee also tracked down a lost mastiff in real life, and found a calico cat that was hiding under a deck.

Dogs Finding Dogs was formed as a 501c3 in September of 2008. Our motto is “Our Noses Know Where Your Pet Goes!” Its main goal is to help reunite missing pets with their families. By doing this, the pets return home and are saved from the threat of being euthanized as unwanted strays. We are proud of our working dogs, including search dog Lee. For a search and rescue dog to save the life of just one missing pet is a high honor. To save the lives of many is truly a blessing. Lee has already saved many lives.

Altogether, DFD has reunited over 4,000 missing pets with their families in just four years, either by counseling on the phone or by deploying SAR teams, And Lee, our beloved goofy fantastic coonhound, was one of those successful cases before he joined our team.

The back story. Lee was in a high kill shelter down south in Darlington, South Carolina. He was turned in by his owner/breeder, who wanted Lee and his littermates put to sleep. This guy didn’t want any product of his breeding to do anything but hunt. Well, Lee hunts now, but not exactly what his breeder had in mind. At the shelter in South Carolina, Lee was tied to an igloo shelter outside on concrete for almost a year before he was pulled and sent up to Maryland to a rescue. When he arrived, he was so covered with pressure sores that he slept standing up. He did not know how to lie down to sleep. Lee journeyed up to Maryland and was placed in a foster home with a young college student. Not the best idea for a scared unsocialized hound dog. Soon after he got there, Lee bolted out the door and found his way to a huge patch of bamboo in a vacant lot. Since then, this dog that was thrown away, who slept standing up for over a month at my house, has become a success story. Lee’s story is heartwarming. Lee was given a chance and it turned out well. Of course, Lee had a lot of help from his friends, but he proved himself to be a hero. And he continues to lighten our hearts every day, especially because he has to spin in the air and jump like a kangaroo at least once on every track he is working. Well, this helps to make people smile who are so sad and worried as we are looking for their pets. Lee is truly the “Super Hound Dog to the Rescue!”

I have a paypal button on our Website that says “Donate Now.” The book costs $12, plus $6 shipping and handling. Just donate $18 and say you want a copy of We Love Lee. Or, you can mail a check to Dogs Finding Dogs with a note requesting the book. Our address is: Dogs Finding Dogs P.O. Box 18244 Baltimore, MD 21227 However, to be sure to get a copy in time for Christmas, you would need to do that right away, by December 11. Dogs Finding Dogs also has a Facebook page with some of the pages from the book. You can also reserve a copy there.

Guest Blog by Brianne CharbonneauIt all started back in fall of 2007, in Denver, Colorado. My roommates decided that it was time we got a four-legged friend. One roommate had her heart set on a basset hound and the other on a Dalmatian. I had been dog-deprived for two years and knew I needed something, but retained an open mind about what kind of dog. Together, we decided we wanted a rescue dog. We came across a couple of great rescue organizations and heard of a Dalmatian at a shelter near us. We made the drive over, but no Dalmatian. So, we looked at other dogs for over two hours. The last stop was in the sick dog ward. There she was--a beautiful dog. But she was emaciated.

Something about her was so amazing, but my other roommates were not so keen. I waited for hours at the shelter to meet her and it was the best thing I ever did. The first question out of my mouth was, "Why is she so skinny?" The shelter person told me, “People starve them to make them hunt.”

[Editor’s comment: Coonhounds hunt just fine even if they are well fed. There are lots of reasons coonhounds come into shelters emaciated—most frequently, because they have gotten lost while hunting and haven’t eaten for several days. However, many coonhounds are not allowed to hunt on a full stomach because that can result in bloat, a potentially fatal problem, and an all-day or all-night hunt can burn off five pounds from a 65-pound coonhound easily. Of course, some hunters do abuse their dogs. On the other hand, many very poor coon hunters take better care of their hounds than they do of themselves. Shelters often perpetuate a lot of myths about coonhounds and coon hunters that make it hard to find pet homes them. Coonhound Companions was formed to help correct that problem.]I decided to put the skinny Bluetick on a 24-hour hold to allow me to research the breed, since I had never even heard of coonhounds. [Coonhound Companions wishes more potential adopters would do their homework like this!] Long story short, I adopted her. If I hadn't put her on the 24-hour hold, she wouldn't have been there the next day. People at that shelter believed coonhounds to be "undesirable" and put them down faster than, say, a Lab. They warned me that they are stupid dogs that are not good for much. [For more info on the breed, see 1 ][Ridiculous myth! No wonder that shelter’s coonhounds weren’t getting adopted!] My Sadie Mae is not stupid and has proven her intelligence over and over again to me. Sadie seemed a little bored, so I started to train her at home, in Denver, to give her something to keep her busy.

[Engaging coonhounds in mental work often keeps them out of mischief. Bored coonhounds have good imaginations and can engage in naughty behavior!]

Sadie was always able to pick something up after about the third time seeing it done. So, my roommates and I decided that we needed to expand her knowledge. I saw something on Animal Planet showing off dogs doing amazing things, so I decided to teach her myself. She loved to play tug, so we started off with tugging on the dishtowel and then progressed to opening the cupboard. The fridge was a greater temptation for Sadie since tasty food was so close to the front. After losing a couple of hot dogs and some chicken, we decided that the teaching her to open the fridge on her own was not the best idea! By now, Sadie May has been trained in commands for service dogs and she will open cupboards on her own when she is hungry.[Not uncommon, even for untrained coonhounds. Childproof latches may prove necessary in some cases!]She opens cupboards and the fridge with a towel. She has mastered removing socks from your feet without causing pain. She is also trained to match the speed of the person walking with her (never pulling). She will walk next to a wheelchair and match its speed. Sadie has been trained for Touch, so when I put a Post-it in front of her nose, she will touch it with her nose. I can then put the Post-it on a light switch and she will turn it off or on. She will pick some things up on command, but doesn’t like to do this with metal objects. She also knows: Back, Brace, Take It, Drop It, Leave It, Ask (she will touch you with her paw for an object instead of howling or jumping), Fix It (to get leash untangled from feet), Boundary (not allowed outside a certain area). I got most of my ideas from a website 2. She proved herself so smart at home that I decided we should train in AKC-style obedience and agility. The first class we took was Intermediate Obedience, and then we took three progressively difficult levels of Agility. The instructor, in Michigan, where we live now, runs the number one and two AKC-Agility Corgis in the U.S., and competes in everything with her dogs. She took one look at Sadie and almost died laughing. I still remember her words: "She will never live up to your expectations."[It's not just shelter people that have misconceptions about coonhounds. A lot of trainers do too!] That stung, but Sadie and I proved her wrong. Sadie was the first in her class for everything--the first with off-leash heel, the first for off-leash recall, the first coonhound to take agility training off-leash outdoors with this trainer and with the AKC club I train with.She doesn't get to open doors at our current residence out of fear she'll get a hold of the peanut butter jar. Sadie’s agility career came to an end suddenly at the age of three-and-a-half, when we learned that she suffers from a back problem, calcification of the backbones. [This is a problem common in dachshunds, bassets, and other “dwarf” breeds 3.] Our vet called it Spondylosis deformans. It is also known as “bridging” or “calcifying“ of the backbones. It may be a genetic issue, although it can also be caused by trauma. 4 It can either remain stable or it can progressively get worse. These days, Sadie is not allowed to jump anything over 16 inches and has been on joint medicine. One day she may be paralyzed from this disease, but we take it a day, week, month, and year at a time. We do x-rays every year and there hasn’t yet been any change. Hang the expense. Her well-being comes first for me.

Many say that coonhounds should not be off leash. That may be true for the majority of coonhounds, but not for all. I have owned Sadie five years now and she has been off leash for three-and-a-half years and HAS NEVER, EVER run off or disobeyed a “Come” command in her life. Although she is not a hunter in the traditional manner (when she ran into a raccoon once, she ran the other way!), she has taken up hunting on her own. Her prey of choice? Mice!

Sadie is stubborn when it comes to sleeping in a comfy bed and will chase off her brother the Mountain Cur (another rescue) [often used for squirrel hunting 5 ].

She wakes me up at 5 a.m. for breakfast every single day. She hates snow, rain or any other precipitation.

My Sadie Mae is not overly lovey and doesn’t play much with toys. Yet she is my best friend, and my snuggle buddy whenever it’s cold. She loves to sleep, eat, and hunt mice--and not always in that order. She is the best dog I have ever owned or even known.

Coonhounds see into your soul and love you with all they have. I was lucky enough to find a coonhound, my Sadie Mae. Even though I added a mountain cur to our family, I will always have at least one coonhound. I need one to complete my soul.

_ CoonhoundCompanions.com December 21, 20112011 is quickly drawing to a close, along with Coonhound Companions first full year as a non-profit promoting the adoption and public awareness of Coonhounds in shelters through out the Untied States and Canada.

I was the last member of our group to join up, living in the largest urban city in Maine, I don’t see many coonhounds being walked on the streets on Portland. That may be changing due to the efforts of a shelter in Dunn County Humane Society in Menomonie, Wisconsin. Here’s the story: Coonhound Companion founding member Anna lives in Wisconsin, an active volunteer at her local shelter she emailed shelters state wide offering them posters from our site: http://www.coonhoundcompanions.com/posters--more.html beautiful, downloadable posters singing the praises of coonhounds as family pets. She received a great email back from one a shelter in Dunn County, Wisconsin sharing their new brochure helping to “drown” the stereotypes of coonhounds in their area, where they have a lot of coonhounds available for adoption.

Way to go Dunn County Humane Society! I love their creative, fun message.Days later this article in the Kennebec Journal, Augusta Maine caught my eye:

_What a surprise when I read that LL Bean was coming from the Dunn County Shelter!

Coonhound Companion’s efforts and creative shelters like Dunn County ARE making a difference for coonhounds. This is a wonderful way to end the year, and I’m looking forward to spotting this handsome Coonhound being walked on the streets of Portland in the near future.

We didn’t think we could love again. We didn’t think we could laugh again. It was March, cold and raw, when we lost our beloved Dalmatian, the first dog we’d ever had. We were crazy about him, and miserable without him.

We were so sad we couldn’t live another day, it seemed, without a dog. So again, we made the trip to the animal shelter, Buddy Dog Humane Society, in Sudbury, Mass.

There, across from the cage where, ten years before, our Dalmatian had stood, gorgeous, noble and proud, waiting for a home, we watched a large, black, white and chestnut-colored pup fold his improbably long legs into the confines of a tiny round bed. We laughed, for the first time in weeks.

Some sound other than the furious barking of the shelter dogs attracted his attention. He unfolded his nimble body, stretched impossibly tall, and trotted off to investigate. Back he came, curiosity satisfied, and plopped down again. We laughed.

We took him for a walk to test him out. That was the plan, anyway. He took us on a dizzying tour of the shelter’s grounds. We were convinced he was the one. “What mix is he?” we asked, as we put down our deposit. “Actually, we think he’s a purebred Treeing Walker Coonhound,” the shelter worker said.

“A what?” we asked. We did our homework. I sat biting my nails as I watched videos of these tree-climbing dogs, then called the fence company to replace our four-foot picket fence with a more substantial six-footer.

When we went to pick him up, he spooked at a ball of cat hair rolling across the parking lot, then refused to get in the car. The shelter worker managed to coax him in, and knowing the shelter’s rule that I had to take him to the vet within 10 days, we practiced every day. We tried many treats. We had dog friends show him what to do. We climbed in, and out, and in, and out, ourselves. “He’s a hound,” said our neighbor, a Basset hound owner. “What does that mean?” I asked frantically. She just smiled knowingly. “You’ll find out.”

We did.

Lesson #1. Hounds are independent thinkers.Hounds think a lot. Tucker considers where he wants to go—and doesn’t. Never having walked on a leash, he would simply sit when he had different plans than we did. We called it the Plop o’Doom, because 85 lbs. of stubborn hound are impossible to move. Tempting treats in one’s pocket are a necessity.

Lesson # 2. A hound is stealthy.They’re hunters, so they’re experts at moving without making a sound. Tucker is so quiet, we often think he’s slipped out somehow and gone gallivanting. But no, he’s usually asleep in one of his many favorite spots or simply waiting to be noticed.

Lesson #3. A hound is sensitive. At first, Tucker didn’t know the difference between his food and ours. Rather, it was clear he preferred ours. When I sprayed him with water (a technique that would barely quiet our barky Dalmatian) after he tried to eat our dinner, he stood shaking in the hallway. I never did that again.

Lesson #4. A hound is gentle and friendly. Where our Dalmatian tended toward fear-aggressiveness, Tucker loves everyone and every dog, especially tiny ones. He can play with the big guys and the little ones. He stands still so toddlers can pet him. Easy!

Lesson #5. A hound is smart. Now that Tucker loves the car, we have to spell the word, otherwise we’ll get knocked over as he races to the door. He was easy to train, and possesses several graduation certificates. It seems like he knows what we’re going to do even before we do. He’ll also go get his leash when he’s ready for a walk.

Lesson #6. A hound sleeps a lot. Our Dalmatian was always underfoot, begging to go out for a run—three times a day! A coonhound’s job is to hang around until needed, so they’re perfectly willing to wait for a walk. Then, they’d like a good, long one.

When admirers used to ask us if we would recommend they adopt a Dalmatian, we would have to tell them no. We were up to the challenge, and loved it, but knew many families wouldn’t have the time or energy to keep up with the exuberant breed.

Now, when people ask about our hound—and they do, Walker hounds are known mainly to hunters in the Northeast—we enthusiastically can recommend the breed. Tucker barely sheds. He’s extremely quiet—no barking, and his throaty bay and his antics make everyone laugh. We laugh all the time now, with our goofy, sweet, lovable hound.

This August 5th was Olivia’s Adoption Day. The day we took hold of her leash and walked her into our home. Her birthday and age is only an educated guess. She was one or two years old when she was picked up as a stray in Round Rock, suburb of Austin, Texas and brought to Town Lake Animal Center (TLAC). In 2007, TLAC had a three day hold policy, Olivia was given her three days, waiting for an owner to claim her, after that she was scheduled to undergo euthanasia. The first photo I have of our Olivia was taken of her in her cage at the shelter, she was sitting next to a pail of water looking up at the camera. She was given the required shots, an ID number and a small chance to live.

Lucky for her, the staff thought she was a sweet girl and alerted one of the rescue volunteers. These volunteers have taken on the unenviable task of visiting the dog shelter to look for dogs that they can “pull” and bring into a foster program. Many of the dogs won’t be saved and this is their last chance. Olivia’s road to life started with Coonhound Companions member Jerry Dunham. Coonhounds are one of the many breeds that he helps save.

He knows his hounds and was surprised that he had missed her on his recent visit, but when he approached her cage he could see why. She was curled up in a tight ball at the back of cage. He said “she looked liked she had given up”. To this day, when Olivia feels stressed, I find her in her bed, curled so tight that I can’t lift her paw. We call it her “coonhound lockdown” time.

Many phone calls and juggling of schedules later he found a foster home for her. He was allowed to pull her under the auspices of The Texas Alaskan Malamute Rescue. Our little underweight, scared black and tan coonhound went to Lynn, who fosters Mals but found room in her busy life and home for Olivia.

I later found out that the very pink slippers that can be seen on Olivia’s Pet Finder page were Lynn’s.

Olivia went from a being a hungry, injured stray, surviving on the streets by herself to being given a second chance and what may have been her very first name ever, “Scout”.

She was put up for adoption on Pet Finder and the American Black and Tan Coonhound Rescue’s site, I first saw her picture there.

Lynn was the first to notice that Olivia was showing signs of being very sick and alerted Jerry. He contacted a local vet that would do pro-bono work of rescue dogs to see if she would take a look at Olivia. “Scout's” survival was in question. She came out of the shelter with a nasty kennel cough that quickly turned into double pneumonia. It was touch and go for several days, but she pulled through and we are grateful to vets like Dr. Culp that donate their time to rescue dogs.

Before adopting Olivia I wanted to know more about her. My dogs had always been six to eight weeks old when I got them and I wanted to know what I could expect with a full grown dog. Jerry answered every question I emailed him and if he didn’t know, he put me in contact with someone that did. This was my first experience adopting a dog and I had some trepidation, but I had made the decision to “walk the talk” and adopt a dog from a shelter. The commitment and support of these rescue workers sharing their stories about coonhound behavior, and what I could expect when I brought her into our home sealed the deal for us. I said yes. We’ll take her!

Foster mom Lynn, says good bye to a now healthy Scott!

My current work with Coonhound Companions is my way of “paying it forward” - repaying the support and help I received, and continue to receive, for my Olivia from the dog rescue community. Many coonhound owners have begun to share their coonhound stories on our Coonhound Companions Facebook Page, and follow our Long Ears Blog on our CoonhoundCompanions.com website.

Anyone can help save a life by simply going to www.coonhoundcompanions.com, click on Poster & More and download the free PDF’s of posters and promotion kits. Pass the link onto a friend, your local shelter or rescue group. Every “like”, comment, and download is helping save a coonhound life and better the understanding of this oft-misunderstood breed.

The life I helped save was Olivia’s. On August 5, 2006 my husband and I met the transport driver Norm, in our local park. We signed some paper work and took her leash from him. My life changed immediately. I was once considered the consummate dog person, but I soon discovered that I knew little about how to handle this neglected, fearful canine.

Olivia: “The Cautious Canine”.

What’s going to be title of Olivia’s Story, part two? “She Exhausts Me.”

At her foster home, they called her “Cricket.” Lloyd (my husband) wanted to make her "truly" ours, so he chose “Phoebe.” I still want to call her Cricket sometimes, only because I've been calling her that for what seems like such a long time (about two months). But Lloyd said we should make her our own girl and that includes a name and he's right. Funny thing: I say, "C'mon, Phoebe, come on girl, good Phoebes," and she comes right over. So I'm giving her "Cricket" for her middle name. I won't use it, but it makes me feel happy to know it'll be there. (Kind of like when you have a kid with a middle name and when you want them to know you're serious, you say "June Ann, clean your room right now"! I don't think I'll be asking Phoebe to clean anything, though.)

We got to the meeting place an hour early on purpose, just so we wouldn't be late. We were to meet her transporter, Peter, in the Pier 1 parking lot next to the mall, at 4:25 pm. Being so early, we went into the store to kill time. At 4:00, we figured we'd sit in the lot and wait but Lloyd spotted the driver's car (we were told ahead of time what kind of car he'd be driving -- believe it or not, a BMW sedan!), and Peter, with the two dogs on leashes ... He was early! Cricket and Gray (a cool-looking blue heeler mix that had been at the same rescue home as Phoebe Cricket, was her good friend, and was making his way to Ipswich, MA by way of Nashua, NH), and both were straining like mad on their leashes. When we came over, I said, "Hi Cricket! Hi Gray!"

We tried to "meet" Cricket but she was so wild-ish and really unhappy on the leash, straining and pulling and doing the crazy circle-in-the-air-I'm-going-to-choke-myself thing. And she was shy and backed away, even from a hand under her chin. Peter gave us the manila envelope with all her papers in it and by that time, the next driver who was taking Gray to the next stopping point had arrived. Peter took Gray to the other driver and Phoebe Cricket went wild, trying to get to Gray! I wanted to cry I felt so badly for her. So Lloyd and I quickly got her to our car and she hopped into the back seat. I went in next to her instead of staying in the front seat because I wanted her to feel secure and Lloyd thought it was a good idea because we weren't sure how she'd be in the back seat alone ... Would she try to jump in the front? She lay down and within a short time, put her head on my knee. So sweet.

We got home 45 minutes later and I went into the house to get Jet, our small black and tan, on her leash. I also got the Gentle Leader for Phoebe because we saw how not-very-good she was with the collar and leash and didn't want her to hurt her neck or throat. I was a little worried that the Gentle Leader would be too much for her to take all at once -- you know, two days in 15 different cars and an overnight stay in a strange place, new people-owners, new dog friend, new place, and now a thing around her face? -- but I was worried about the way she was on the leash and regular collar, so I put it on her. It only took about 2½ minutes for her to stop fighting the band across her nose and like magic, she walked like a lady on the leash!! Then we brought Jet out and they sniffed each other just a little ... Jet is laid back and seemed kind of disinterested and Phoebe just wanted to lick Jet's rear end. So Lloyd and I set off with the two dogs on leashes and Gentle Leader collars and we had a great walk!

Phoebe did best when she was walking right next to Jet. They didn't interact much but there was no aggression whatsoever, none at all. We came back to our house and without going inside, went to the backyard with the dogs. Then they ran around a bit but Jet was still very separate, like she usually is. Then the neighbors let their 6-month-old Golden Retriever in the yard and it was crazy because she's verrrrry active. Jet, Phoebe, and Ruby were running like crazy and were having a great time, all of them together. That went on for about half an hour. Ruby went back home and then it was time for Jet and Phoebes to eat dinner.

Although we have the crate all set up, we thought, "Let's see what happens if we just feed them in two different places." Up to this point, Phoebe wouldn't accept any treats, not dog biscuits, not peanut butter biscuits, not beef snacks. Nothing. Poor girl. I got the kibble into the bowls but Phoebe wouldn't eat and I remembered that Jet had been the same way for about a week when we'd just found her. I think it's an issue of trust and/or nervous stomach -- newness, too much traveling, too many people. So I put some wet food in the bowls and both dogs ate everything. It was so good to see! Then it was relaxation time and Phoebe sure knows how to relax! She jumped right on the couch and sprawled all over. Jet gave her quite a once over, as if to say, "Who the heck do you think you are?" but she took the club chair and lay down, too. After Lloyd and I had dinner, we sat with the dogs and watched TV and petted them both and everyone was happy.

Bedtime. We wondered what would happen but we were game for the experiment. Jet always sleeps in our room, either on her dog bed or on the bed with us and we had bought Phoebe her own gigantic dog bed and thought she'd sleep there. Wrong. Right up on the bed! That was fine, except she'd rested quite enough between the yard time and bedtime and she was in play mode. Sorry, pup ... gotta do what the family is doing. Jet knows the drill and settled herself in the crook of Lloyd's knees. When Phoebe jumped on the bed and bumped into Jet, I heard Jet with a low growl in her throat for the very first time! I yelled at her, "NO, Jet. NO growling," and I petted her instantly and hugged her. Phoebe settled elsewhere on the bed and all was well. It didn't take long and she settled down and slept most of the night at my feet, changing position once or twice and even jumping down to nest on her dog bed once or twice.

In the morning, same thing happened with a Jet growl because Phoebe got too close to her when Jet was snuggled next to me. But it was momentary, no problems. It seems Jet doesn't like to be touched by Phoebe when Jet is sleeping right next to either of us, otherwise, she's fine. We haven't seen this when they're playing outside or even elsewhere in the house, only on the bed.

We all got up, leashes went on the dogs, and the four of us took a walk. Good girls. Good Lloyd and Stacy. Came back and repeated the yard exercise and they ran with each other like mad, play fighting -- no growls, just play-mouthing each other -- and wandering. Both girls go into the little "woods" of the yard to "do their business." They're really great! Then they had breakfast and I was happy to see Phoebe ate almost all of her kibble without wet food. Good! She doesn't seem to want snacks yet, but she needs time.

Right now, after all their playing, Jet is sleeping on the cool ceramic tile floor and Phoebe is outside on the deck in the sun, near-ish to Lloyd. It's beautiful weather here, not hot, sunny and breezy. And we have two beautiful dogs who are, oddly, the same exact size. Weird for two hounds who belong to breeds that are usually larger than 40-45 pounds. Although Phoebe weighs a little less than Jet's 44 pounds, I'm sure it's because she's so skinny. She's actually a heavier-boned dog than Jet and I'm sure she'll fill out to be the larger (heavier) of the two. But since she's older than a year, I don't think she'll grow much bigger.

I think she's pretty close to a year or just a bit older because she's very puppyish still, mouthy, lively, going after toys. Jet, who we figure is also just over a year and a half, has lost some of that. She chewed my couches (!) and was a lot like Phoebe is now just until a couple of months ago. Could be she also finally realized this is really home and we know Phoebe will take some time to come to the same conclusion. In all, we think she's a beautiful dog and she'll be just fine with her new home and new sister. I love the way they play ... and then they separate. It's all going to work out just fine.

And by the way, Phoebe never noticed kitty yesterday, today being the first time she even realized Saidar was in the house. Nothing happened. Nothing. She just walked right by. Kitty, on the other hand, ran behind the door to stay on the steps to the basement in case she needed a quick getaway.

I think it's going to be great and she was quite a bargain! We've got a new little girl. Her soft brown eyes are superb and in all, we think she's a sweetie.

A few days ago, on a beautiful spring day here in Portland, Maine, we went into town with Olivia. [Olivia is the Black & Tan seen with her "dad" Steve on our home page.] Our car needed work, so Steve left Olivia and me off at a town park. The car place is a short walk across a busy intersection. There are crosswalks, but the roads are both two-lane highways.Steve decided to walk from the car place back to the park. He called me my on my cell and suggested that he lay a track for us.

It's a big park. I couldn't see him. Olivia and I were checking out the ducks and squirrels.

Steve and I discussed in general where he would walk. He left a map that he had in his pocket as our start article. I hung out with Olivia to let the scent age for 25 minutes, then walked Olivia over to his starting place.

Olivia spotted the map and looked around for him. I picked up the map and gave her the commands "Find it." ... "Where's Steve?"

She was off like a shot – BACK towards the car place over the road! [Note: Olivia has her 30 foot tracking leash and harness on. She is not loose near the busy road.]

I get her back in the direction that I knew Steve had traveled and she puts her head down, tail up, and starts off looking for him. Yeah! I haven't tracked with her all winter. But she will do anything to find Steve!

Steve has left a Kleenex half way up a hill for her to find. I see a Kleenex that looks like it's in the path. Olivia blows by it – no indication (not a good thing in AKC tracking, but maybe its someone else's Kleenex).

I begin to wonder if we are really on his track. Olivia is still head down. She only looked up once – to check out some kids. (Kids can't be trusted in Olivia's book of rules). I tell her "Find it" again, and re-scent her with the map. You are allowed to re-scent your dog in AKC.

We are heading up a hill. There's more Kleenex to choose from in our path. Olivia circles in on one and gets back to business. At this time I am reminded of the advice my tracking friends gave me, "Trust your dog."

I follow Olivia to an open field and see Steve sitting under a tree in the distance. She keeps her head down until we are close enough that she begins to air scent him. That makes her raise her head and she spots him. She takes off at a full run towards him, while I do my best to keep up with her.

The end to a good tracking day… Or is it?

Steve heads back to get the car and I walk in the opposite direction back to the ducks. Our plan is for him to drive over and pick us up so we can spend more time in the park.

Eventually, Olivia and I head back to where he had crossed the road. Olivia picks up his scent again. I just stand there waiting. No way I'm going to cross a busy road with her, and anyway, tracking on hot pavement is very advanced – Olivia is strictly recreational when it comes to tracking.

The more I hold her back, the more she starts chopping and pulling.

So, what the hey!

I head out the way I think he would go towards the road, but Olivia takes a turn on the sidewalk, towards a crosswalk that I didn't know was there. Okay, I'm good with that. We cross the road and she turns again, away from the car place. Oh well, she had a good run. I let her go to explore it. After a few feet she turns back in the right direction. I notice that the wind has picked up and that it's blowing in the direction that would have carried his scent away from the car place. But when she lost the air scent, she went back to head down, following his footsteps in the right direction again.

At this point we are about to cross the busy road. She is hot to find Steve. I have to hold her back until there is a break in the traffic. Then we shoot across the road.

Okay – fun and games are over. Let's just walk directly to the car place. No way that Olivia could still be tracking Steve – it's not the direction that I would have walked.

I let her take me around the building to yet another sidewalk I didn't know was there. BINGO! We are now in front of the car place and Steve.

Olivia will never pass an AKC test – her fears get in the way; but when her heart is in it, she truly does have coonhound that coonhound nose.